Many of the readers of the age group to whom this column is addressed will remember with nostalgia the railways of yesteryear.

Clean trains, punctual trains, trains which went to the parts of the country which you wanted to visit, not a distant approximation to it.

There was that wonderful moment when you reached your destination and you looked out of the window in the sure and certain hope that a porter would be standing outside your carriage door ready and willing to help with your baggage, your child's pushchair, your shopping or whatever else you presented him with.

There were, I am sure, surly porters but, rather as we remember all the summer days of our childhood to be warm and sunny, so in my memory, all porters were happy and smiling and, above all, helpful. A bit like the late-lamented garage attendants, I suppose.

And then there was Beeching.

If you lived more than a stone's throw off the main drag, you lost your friendly smiling porter along with your train, and the railway station became a trendy tea room or a garden centre or something equally unnecessary.

So you used your car to do what the train used to do. Now that is being labelled "anti-social" and you are being urged to "let the train take the strain" and, if you ask "what train?", you are considered negative and unhelpful.

So you dutifully drive only part of the way on account of the bus not running in conjunction with the train timetable and arriving helpfully three minutes after your train has left the station.

You park at considerable expense in the station car park, usually (unless you are travelling at about 5am) about half-a-mile from the station entrance, and you queue up for your ticket, unless you are one of those with a second mortgage to pay for your season ticket.

Up till now, you have generally been able to get a ticket to anywhere on the rail network, for immediate travel or to travel next week or to send your mother-in-law into outer space. But soon, if the powers-that-(unfortunately)-be have their way, that may no longer be the case.

If you live in Brighton or some other large conurbation, you may be able still to exercise the passengers' right - sorry, I forget, we are "customers" these days - to choose when and where to get your ticket.

However, if you live in a rural area, served by a train but having a small and insignificant station, be warned. There are moves afoot for "improvements" to the system which mean you can either get a ticket for immediate travel or pay up to three times as much if you try to book an advance APEX fare.

Once again, the rural areas are being hit at a time when we are all being implored not to use cars more than necessary. What happened to that old fashioned word - service? No call for it, say the rail operators. Want to bet?

It should be written into the service contracts of the rail operators in large writing: THE CUSTOMERS' NEEDS COME FIRST.